


In Which Peter's an Oblivious Idiot

by coffea



Series: Two Idiots and Their Dumpster Cat [1]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Identity Reveal, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Peter Parker, You Can Pry This Trope From My Cold Dead Hands, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 10:30:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17119658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffea/pseuds/coffea
Summary: The five times Wade tells Peter he loves him and the one time Peter gets his head out of his ass.





	In Which Peter's an Oblivious Idiot

1.

"I love you."

"Okay," Peter sounds out, slowly chewing his hotdog and processing the words that were just thrown at him. "Thank you?"

Wade's shoulders sag, and Peter wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. Normally Wade was so animated. He talked fast, and made wild hand gestures; even his _mask_ seemed to take on whatever expression he was making under it. So the fact that Peter was unable to read him was unnerving.

"I mean, I love you too," Peter adds quickly. "Like, we hang out all the time. And we really kick ass together, y'know? Patrols are a lot easier with you around, and I appreciate your company and having my back."

Wade, thankfully, seems to soften at his words. "Of course, Webs. I'll always have your back," he says, bringing his hand up to squeeze Peter's shoulder.

And that's the end of that.

2.

They're at a sketchy food truck, which isn't uncommon for them. In fact, it's pretty much tradition at this point, but this particular truck is fairly new. It's got a musty smell to it, but it _is_ New York, and said smell could be attributed to the trashcan stationed near the corner.

All in all another day, another food truck, another suspicious bad smell with an unknown origin.

"These tacos are divine," Wade moans, throwing his head back. "Well, not really. They're kinda chewy and have a weird tangy aftertaste but that's life, baby!"

"Chewy with a weird tangy aftertaste?"

"You have any other way to describe it?" Wade asks, and oddly enough, no. Peter doesn't have another way to describe it. Life is chewy with a weird tangy aftertaste and that's just something he has to live with.

"I think you hit the nail on the head," he concedes, about to take a small bite from his own taco before deciding he's not all that keen on experiencing the taste of life.

"It's not all bad," Wade says, before reaching for Peter's food. "If you're not gonna eat that, I will. I'll cook you up some real nice nudes when we get back to my place, so don't worry about going hungry."

"Please stop calling noodles nudes, Wade." He sighs exasperated, though his chest warms at Wade's thoughtfulness.

At the sound of a pained grunt, Peter turns his head to see Wade clutching his stomach.

"Spidey?" Wade says, voice strained.

"Yeah?"

"Would now be a good time to tell you that my love for you is like diarrhea, I just can't hold it in?"

"Uh," Peter says articulately. "I mean. No? Why would it be?"

"Well," Wade was hunched over, tacos forgotten. "because if we don't find a bathroom soon, I may be able to demonstrate firsthand."

Ah. So the suspicious smell was coming from the truck.

"Alright buddy, let's not get too ahead of ourselves. There should be one in any of the stores we just passed and if that doesn't work out i'm sure a bush will suffice." Hopefully Wade wont get caught for public indecency if that ends up being the case. "Though no offense dude, but I won't be staying for that particular demonstration."

Wade lets out a pained laugh in response.

3.

"I know for a diddly darn fact that you cheated," Wade accuses, stretched out on his absurdly expensive but kinda dirty couch.

"I diddly darn didn't!" Peter defends from his place on the floor. "How can you even cheat at Mario Kart? That's impossible. Accept your defeat and pick another map."

"You know what's impossible? Being that good at Rainbow Road! Nobody's that good at Rainbow Road!"

Peter huffs, pointing his controller in Wade's direction. "Yeah, well, nobody can lift cars and climb on walls either yet here I am!"

Wade's silent for a moment, unhappily coming to terms with his own defeat. "I hate you," he says without any heat.

Peter laughs. "You love me."

"I love you," he concedes, sighing dreamily. "And that cute little ass of yours."

"Hey, let's not talk about my ass maybe?"

"Sure, you wanna talk about my ass instead? I've gotta say, it pales in comparison to yours but I've got—" Wade abruptly cuts off, dodging the controller being thrown at his head.

4.

"I think he loves you more than me," Wade complains, watching Peter pet the tiny kitten bundled up in his lap. He'll definitely have to wash the suit later, considering the little guy is shedding a ton, but that's a price he's willing to pay.

"You think he loves me more than he loves you or that he loves me more than you love me?" Peter jokes, half-distracted by the purring now emanating from the ball of fluff in his arms.

"Sweetheart, nobody could love you more than I do. But someone could definitely love you more than they love me, and I think this little asshole just might. See if I rescue another kitten from behind a dumpster," Wade complains, but Peter can't help but feel a little uneasy at how quick Wade is to put himself down.

"He's just curious because I'm new, Wade. You're an easy man to love, and this little guy would be dumb not to see it." Peter looks up, only to find Wade much closer than he originally thought. "What're you gonna name him?" he asks, ignoring their proximity.

Wade just stares at him, which for some odd reason makes Peter's heart beat a little faster. "I was thinking Santa Claws," he finally says.

Peter groans.

"This cat did not survive the harsh climate of New York in December for you to call it Santa Claws."

5.

Peter's in pain. Peter is in _so_ much pain that he's seeing stars and is that Leonardo winning an Oscar? Is he dreaming up outdated memes?

He lets out a hurt noise, grasping the edge of the couch as Wade digs the bullet out of his thigh.

"Just a few more moments, Spidey. It's almost out, just breathe. You're doing so good, baby boy. I think this is the closest to your ass I've ever been." It probably was, considering the bullet was relatively high up his thigh, forcing Wade to get a little personal. "I wish it could've been under better circumstances, but I'll take what I can get. Though I'd rather not have this. We really need to have a talk about self preservation once we're done here."

Peter lets the sound of Wade's babbling drown out his nerves and ground him in reality. His hands were gentle as they worked. Every now and then he'd run a soothing hand down his side whenever he tensed, then aptly went back to work, continuing to babble on.

"Spidey?" Wade says after a few more moments, gaining Peter's attention. "I'm gonna finish stitching you up, then you'll be right as rain."

"Peter," he corrects, feeling a little too tired for words.

Wade hums. "Sorry?"

"My name," he says. "It's Peter."

Wade's hands pause what they're doing. "Peter," he sounds out. "Petey. Petey-Pie. My Sweet Pete."

Peter groans at the plethora of nicknames, knowing that given time, Wade will come up with much more atrocious ones.

Wade gently pats Peter's other thigh once he finishes up. "Worst parts over! Now just drink some water and get a good nights sleep, okay baby boy?"

Peter nods, and stands up a little wobbly. Wade quickly grasps his elbow in an effort to steady him. "Thank you," Peter says, voice sincere. "I don't know what I would've done if you weren't there."

"You can thank me by getting some rest." Wade's other hand lands on his hip, guiding him towards the room near the end of the hallway. "You can take the bed, I'll be on the couch if you need anything."

"I can't, I mean, the couch is fine. I—"

"Nope," Wade says. "You're sleeping in the bed. My house, my rules."

"It's an apartment," Peter sighs, too tired to argue.

Wade gently sets him on the bed, turning to leave before Peter can utter another word. It's plush and comfy, so unlike what Peter has back at home, and he can't resist sinking into it. He's already half asleep when he hears Wade come back in with a glass of water.

"Try to drink as much as you can," Wade says softly, bringing the thick blanket up to cover Peter entirely. "I'll be nearby."

Wade's about to leave before Peter's hand shoots out to grasp his wrist.

"Stay," Peter mumbles into the pillow. Wade doesn't reply, so he continues, "Please, don't go."

Wade makes a noise like _he's_ the one in pain and for a second Peter's afraid that he'll leave. His worries dissipate though once he feels the other side of the bed dip, Wade settling in beside him. 

It's warm. Wade's like a furnace and Peter tries to get as close as he can without it being weird, but figures it's already weird considering they're both wearing their suits to bed. He ends up with his hand resting on Wade's chest and his head near his shoulder.

"Goodnight," he sighs, feeling heavy and warm and safe all at once.

He thinks he feels something press up against the forehead of his mask, and he thinks he hears the words _I love you_ whispered quietly into the dark. But he's tired, and everything feels so far away that he wouldn't be surprised if he imagined it.

+1

Peter's plagued by gay thoughts. Gay thoughts weren't a rare occurrence for Peter, considering he'd come to terms with his bisexuality a long time ago; accepting that his attraction wasn't geared exclusively towards women. But gay thoughts towards his best friend? His crime fighting pal? The guy who once challenged Peter to a burp off then proceeded to burp the alphabet only for Peter to one up him by burping it backwards. That guy?

Peter was in love with him. Peter _is_ in love with him.

He was just so _Wade_. And being Wade meant being kind, and funny, and caring, and never once had he disrespected Peter's boundaries. He's never tried to push for more information about Peter's identity, and while Peter was grateful for it, he couldn't stop the little petulant voice in his head from wondering _why not?_

Wade's the guy who buys him tacos, and takes in stray cats. The guy who spends almost every night with Peter, laughing with him from the rooftops so loudly that Peter worries they'll wake the whole city up. The guy who patches Peter up when he's hurt, and comforts him once the hurts over.

Wade's the guy who weaseled his way into Peter's life and made a home for himself in his heart and for that Peter was resentful.

It's not like these thoughts are entirely new. They were fast and fleeting, but present nonetheless. It's just that when Peter woke up that morning, with his head on Wade's chest and Wade's arm wrapped firmly around his waist; he couldn't ignore the longing tugging at his heartstrings. He wanted to wake up to Wade every morning, and there was no pretending that that was a totally platonic thought accompanied by totally platonic feelings.

It's just, Peter's not sure that Wade's feelings for him were anything other than feelings you'd have for a close friend.

Wade talked about his ass, but everyone talked about Peter's ass. There were forums on Peter's ass; entire Instagram pages dedicated to _just_ Spider-Man's butt. So while Peter knew for a fact Wade liked that part of his anatomy, he wasn't entirely sure that meant he liked the rest of him. Like, his face for example.

The not knowing was killing Peter.

So here he was, anxiously wringing his mask between his hands in Wade's apartment.

Wade was still. Peter had heard a sharp inhale, but he remained otherwise silent, which did absolutely nothing for Peter's nerves.

"Uh, hi." Peter finally brings his eyes from the floor to meet Wade's own. "Sorry. Wow, this is awkward. It's just, we've known each other for so long. I felt like it was time, y'know? I mean, I've seen your face, so I thought it was only fair, uh.." he trails off, looking to Wade for any kind of reaction.

Luckily, Wade throws him a bone. "Holy shit," he breathes, walking towards Peter and taking his face into his hands. Peter's a little shocked at the action, but feels himself melt as Wade begins rubbing soothing circles into his cheekbones. "You're so pretty, Pete. Pretty Petey, that's your new name. Can't believe you were hiding this face under that mask all this time. Holy shit, baby boy."

Wade's babbling further relaxes Peter, causing him to lean a bit more into his hands. "So, my ass isn't the only thing you like?" He asks jokingly, but can hear a tiny tremor in his own voice.

"What?" Wade tilts his head. "Of course not. Your ass is great, don't get me wrong, but your ass is perfect because its _your_ ass, you get what I'm saying?"

Peter nods, simultaneously flattered and a little confused to be a having a touching conversation about his ass.

"Ok, awesome. That makes what I'm about to say a little easier, I guess." Peter takes a breath, and brings a hand to grip one of Wade's wrists. "I'm in love with you."

Wade opens his mouth to respond, but Peter continues, "I think I have been for awhile. But I have a crippling fear of rejection, and the thought of you not feeling the same really scared me and I mean, it still does. But, it's fine. If you don't, I mean. I just needed to get this out of my system and let you know because otherwise it would've driven me crazy, but yeah. I love you. And the pancakes you made me that morning I stayed the night. And I'd kind of like to eat your pancakes every morning for the rest of my life, and oh God this is beginning to sound like a marriage proposal. It's not. Please make me shut u—"

Thankfully, Wade saves him from further embarrassment by crushing his lips to Peter's own. It's hard, and messy, and a little bit desperate. One of Wade's hands had found its way toward Peter's waist, but the other was still caressing his cheek, and Peter can't help the embarrassing little whine that escapes his lips. Peter moves to deepen the kiss, but Wade groans, pulling away gently before he has the chance.

"Baby boy," Wade sighs, resting his forehead against Peter's. "You're the dumbest little nerd I've ever had the pleasure of kissing."

Peter huffs. "That's rude, you cant call me dumb after our first kiss Wade. That's not proper kissing etiquette."

"And I look forward to you teaching me all about proper kissing etiquette later on," Wade says, giving him a quick peck. Peter tightens the arms he has looped around Wade's neck. "but I do believe I confessed my undying love to you two years ago under the stars, and you thanked me with a mouth full of unchewed hotdog."

Peter's eyebrows draw together in confusion. "Sorry?"

"Eh, don't worry about it."

"No, I mean, what are you talking about? You never confessed to me? I think that's definitely something I'd remember." Peter searches Wade's eyes to make sure the man isn't just playing with him, but as far as he can tell Wade's telling the truth.

"Remember the night we got kicked out of Party City because the manager thought we were stealing costumes? And then called the police on us because we refused to give him money for the costumes that _we_ made?"

Peter scoffs. "Yeah, as if I could forget about that. Nothing at Party City has the structural integrity of these bad boys." Peter pats Wade's chest for good measure and _wow_ , that's firm.

Wade hums in agreement, taking Peter's hand into his own and lacing their fingers together. "That night," he says simply.

Peter thinks back. They had snagged a few hotdogs while they were trying to evade the police, because that's a taxing task and would make anyone hungry. They later made their way to the roof of some random building to eat in peace and oh. _Oh_.

"Oh," Peter breathes. "Oh, my God. You meant that? I didn't know you meant love _love_ , I thought you meant friend love! Wade, I'm so sorry. I really am the dumbest nerd you've ever had the pleasure of kissing."

"Self-deprecation is not a good look on you." Wade tweaks his nose. "Which is saying something, because you look _really_ good, baby boy. Have I told you that already?"

Peter smiles. "You don't look too bad yourself," he says, leaning in to kiss Wade once more. He could _really_ get used to this. "I can't believe we could've been doing this years ago. I can't believe you _confessed_ two years ago."

Wade laughs breathlessly against Peter's lips. "And four times after that."

Peter nods, blissfully unaware until Wade's words catch up to him. 

"I'm sorry, _what_?"

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on [tumblr](https://aftvrnoon.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
